


The Road Home

by OrionLady



Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Bromance, Epic Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rescue Missions, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 20:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20699309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionLady/pseuds/OrionLady
Summary: Those syringes weren’t all they appeared. Jack struggles to put the mission first when Daniel’s condition is worse than they realized.Companion piece to Season Four's “Point of No Return.” This is a slight AU, though Daniel seems noticeably more affected than Sam in this scene. This is my explanation as to why.





	The Road Home

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Stephen Paulus’ masterful choir piece of the same name. Enjoy!

Jack’s hardened military resolve and “callous” demeanor got lodged, an ugly knot, in his throat. His pulse skipped at the sight of the deserted warehouse. The morning was still. Jack would’ve preferred noise.

“You sure this is the place?” he hissed.

Teal’c tapped at a hand held tracker. “This is where the homing locator has ceased moving.”

They crept through the door. Jack’s eyes took a minute to adjust and blow it all to high water if he didn’t go white faced at a bowed mop of brown hair. He forced himself to focus on Sam first.

“Carter?”

“Sir?” she rasped.

“You guys alright?”

Teal’c proved his boundless tact by leaving them alone to deal with Martin. Jack snapped Sam free. Sam winced at Daniel, who hadn’t responded to any of the commotion besides a weak tilt of the head. Jack compared this to Carter’s tired lucidity with a shrewd eye.

Sam nodded. “They thought _he _was the military head and _I _was the civilian scientist. They took him to be the greater threat.”

“Typical. Proves they’re not NID, idiots the lot of them.” Jack worked his knife along the plastic zips cinching Daniel’s wrists. “So they gave him a higher dose?”

“…Much higher.”

Sam’s face took on a pinched quality. The silence stretched. Jack stilled and realized what felt off—Daniel trembled faintly, briskly, like he was strapped to a bit drill. His skin was marble to the touch. Jack’s stomach turned…this didn’t fit the usual sedative signs. On impulse, hot and fierce, he squeezed Daniel’s arm. As much to reassure himself as his friend.

“Carter?”

Some emotion sharpened the fog around her eyes. “He watched me get drugged first and he…he threw a fit. Took it pretty hard.”

Jack frowned. Their whole team had been trained for hostage situations. Daniel didn’t lose his cool easily.

“I think…” Sam wobbled to her feet. “I think, well, it reminded him too much of watching his wife get manipulated.”

Jack shook a little himself. He struggled to channel the protective fire into something gentle. The cuffs had long since come off but Daniel still sat slumped, submissive. Tormented in mind without the ability to wake fully, to realize the demons were only in his memory. His quiet panting was worse than a sharp poker to the gut.

“Hey,” said Jack, little more than a hum in his chest. “Hey, bud. Hard day at the office, huh?”

Daniel responded to the low, warm voice by tilting slightly to where Jack knelt beside the chair. He kept one hand on Daniel’s arm. The others milled about, discussing a ship, but the earth could be about to melt and Jack doubted very much he’d care. His eyes never left his besieged linguist.

He palmed at Daniel’s cheek with his other hand.

“It’s alright, big fella. Sorry they jabbed you. We would’ve gotten here sooner…”

Daniel’s brow furrowed. He brought a quivering hand up to Jack’s resting on his face.

“J…’ck…Jack?”

“There we go!” Jack lit up and patted Daniel’s knee. “You’re safe. I’ve gotcha.”

“Fr…’riend.”

“That’s right, Daniel. I’m your friend.”

Daniel’s glazed, wandering eyes finally found Jack’s face. He squinted even though he was wearing glasses. He tucked his hands between Jack’s chest and his face, hunched over himself.

Jack leaned back. “Daniel?”

Daniel shook his head. Jack tenderly pried his friend’s hands away from where he had started scratches in his forehead.

“No,” Daniel groaned. “No, no, no.”

An icy hand gripped Jack’s heart. He sucked a lightning breath. It crackled in his lungs.

“Danny, we made it out. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.”

Jack only stopped talking because Daniel’s head lolled onto Jack’s shoulder. Jack’s throat tightened again without his permission.

“I’m sorry,” said Daniel. “Know where…am now. Marty, aliens. Got it. I got it.”

Something terribly fond and aching dripped from Jack’s tone. “Come ‘ere. Come on. Get in here.”

His arms did a slow, dance-like wrap around Daniel. He held that close position for a minute, until Daniel’s trembling calmed. Daniel’s fingers fisted in the chest of Jack’s leather jacket. His nose was cold where it met the crook of Jack’s neck. Jack enclosed both of Daniel’s hands with one of his own.

“Ready?”

Daniel nodded.

After a bit of shuffling, both made it to standing. Jack braced nearly the full weight of Daniel’s body, but the archaeologist was walking out of this warehouse under his own power if it took them ‘til Christmas. Jack could give him this small dignity.

When the room fell silent, Jack turned to stare at the other three, wide eyed and slack jawed. Even Marty.

“What?” Jack barked.

Daniel flinched.

“What?” Jack repeated, quieter. “Guy can’t carry a brother?”

The full weight of the words struck them all like a thunder clap. Sam straightened. Her nod was almost a salute.

Jack ran absent fingers through Daniel’s hair. No other team understood this so deeply: that life blood wasn’t always red, that suffering wasn’t just physical. Wasn’t always visible either. That dying for a person meant living for that person too.

Jack spent most of the return car ride to Cheyenne Mountain tucking blankets around Daniel where he stretched out in the back seat—Teal’c and Marty had agreed to rent one for the ride back, which pleased Teal’c and his new driver’s license to no end—and harassing Fraiser on the phone.

“Well, is it bad that he won’t eat anything but soup? And even that he didn’t finish.”

Janet huffed, yet something amused ringed the sound. “And I’ll ask you for the seventh time—does Daniel have dilated pupils, persistent vomiting, or any more confusion about what date it is?”

“No,” said Jack, sullen.

“Then he doesn’t have a concussion or head injury.”

Carter, in the driver’s seat, worked very hard not to laugh. She kept her eyes firmly on the highway.

“But—”

“Colonel, Daniel was given over 10 ccs of a potent psychotropic. Of course he has balance issues and wants to sleep—”

“He’s been sleeping for the last three hours!” Jack threw his free hand in the air.

“Let him,” said Janet. “I’ll examine his blood samples when you get back tomorrow. Maybe he’d feel better if a grumpy colonel stopped badgering him.”

“Hey! I—” Jack pulled the cellphone away from his ear. He stared at it. “Fraiser hung up on me.”

This time even decorum couldn’t hold Carter’s laugh in check. She trailed off into snickers.

Daniel shifted. Jack stretched to pat the back of his neck. “We’ll be there soon, Danny Boy.”

“Cold,” said Daniel.

Jack hummed his worry. “You keep saying that, but those three blankets are merino wool and we’ve got the heat cranked full blast. Tea might help. We’ll get some at the next gas station.”

Daniel had fallen back into sleep before Jack finished speaking.

“So rude,” he muttered, affectionate. “Kids these days.”

Sam smiled. “Is it fever, sir?”

“No.” Jack placed the back of his hand on Daniel’s grey forehead. “He’s freezing. Feels like a steak I forgot about in the fridge.”

“Strong sedatives—especially when mixed with hallucinogens—will do that. It slows the heart rate. He’s probably suffering from low blood pressure too.”

Jack’s face grew stormy. “Ten ccs?”

“Couldn’t believe it when I saw them filling the syringe for Daniel.” Carter’s jaw worked one way and then the other. “They gave me barely a third of that dose. And his chemicals were different.”

Suddenly, Jack gripped her wrist in alarm. “If you get woozy, you tell me immediately.”

“Of course, sir. The fact you drove for the first five hours certainly helped. That coffee didn’t hurt either. I was just getting a little, er, stir crazy. It feels good to have something to do.”

“Understood.”

Daniel didn’t just sleep through the night. He slept into the morning, through Jack and Sam’s driving-sleeping shifts. Through Marty’s allergy attack that had them pulling over. Through numerous cell calls and check-ins from both Fraiser and Hammond.

Only once they pulled onto the road leading to the Mountain did Daniel begin to shake again, mumbling in his sleep. Jack tried to ignore it at first. They were less than twenty minutes away. Jack had just pulled himself back from some emotional brink.

“Jack?” Daniel croaked. The word was one tap away from breaking. “Skaara…”

In a quick, urgent motion, Jack shoved off his seat belt and was climbing into the back.

“Sir?”

“Keep driving, Carter.”

By the time Jack crawled into the backseat, Daniel had bolted upright and was breathing fast.

“Sorry,” he gasped, all in a rush. “Sorry, I just…sorry.”

“Daniel?”

“Jack?”

“Shut up and stop apologizing.” Jack wound an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

Daniel let Jack guide his head to his shoulder. Together they got the blankets resorted. Daniel’s shivering subsided with Jack against his side.

“Sam?”

She adjusted her mirror to see him better. “Yes, Daniel?”

“I wasn’t the best partner on this job. I freaked out and for that I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” Jack warned. His fingers stroked the hair back from Daniel’s forehead.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam added. “You can’t control what that sedative cocktail did to your mind.”

Daniel shrugged, silent.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Dang martyr.”

Even when they pulled into the parking lot, neither man moved. Relief filled Jack, however, at seeing Daniel’s eyes alert. Pained, tired beyond belief, but alert.

Sam twisted to look at them. “Take your time. We’re ahead of schedule anyway. I’ll just…”

She pointed to the door and then left. Her shoes crunched away on the gravel. The breathing of both men evened out after a long five minutes.

“I feel funny,” said Daniel.

“You just slept off a trippy dug for fifteen hours. Of course you feel funny.”

Daniel sniffed. “I suppose.”

Silence fell. Martin and Teal’c walked past their car to the entry gates. Daniel and Jack watched them without really seeing. Only now Jack realized the pressure against his ribs was his friend’s heartbeat.

“Do you trust me as part of this team, Jack?” Daniel asked suddenly.

Jack swallowed with difficulty. He let out a long breath through his nose.

Apparently emotion made his answer take too long because Daniel went a brilliant shade of red and scowled.

“Of course,” he muttered to himself. “It only makes sense. I lost my wife so it’s only a matter of time before I lose someone else. I don’t blame you. After yesterday I don’t trust me eith—”

“I trust you with my life,” said Jack. The words were almost too soft to hear, but they stopped Daniel in his tracks. “Because we’re not a team.”

Daniel shifted to blink at him.

“Sappy as it sounds—and I’ll deny saying it to my grave—but we’re a family. That’s all there is to it.”

Jack nodded and that was the end the matter. It wasn’t a very military arrangement but it was theirs. They were his. All three of them.

When he rubbed his eyes, a cold hand patted his arm. It reminded Jack abruptly of something his son would do.

“Let’s go inside and get some coffee in you,” said Daniel.

“That’s my line.”

“Then we can fill a cup for me too.”

Jack eased Daniel out of the car with an impressed look. “Nice try. Your tactics are improving.”

“So I can have coffee?” Daniel’s excited look was only made less effective by the thickest blanket he wore like a cape. And the fact he couldn’t stand without swaying. Jack steadied him with a hand on his back.

“Absolutely not.”

“Jack!”

“Daniel?”

“Jack.”

“Daniel.”

“Gentlemen?”

They whirled. Hammond stood in the entryway, eyes crinkled at the edges. He only wore a T-shirt, ludicrous next to Daniel’s bundled frame. The general oozed relief. He shook his head at them.

“Good to see you home in one piece,” he said.

_One piece_. Jack couldn’t argue with the truth. Daniel’s heart continued to thump against Jack’s ribs.

Jack clapped Daniel on the back. “Home indeed.”

Daniel perked up when he spotted something in Hammond’s other hand. “Why don’t you let me carry that thermos for you, General? It’s the least I can—”

“Daniel! Step away from the coffee!”

**Author's Note:**

> Written November 2016.


End file.
